Suspicion is a Healers' Guide
by Pine Tree Horizon
Summary: A foreshadowing of how Ivy and Melinda socialize more and open up. Light spills through a crackling cocoon. Ivy's perspective.
1. Chapter 1

Suspicion is a Healers' Guide: A Possible Perspective by Ivy Mello

**Disclaimer: Characters in the book **_**Speak**_** belong to Laurie Halse Anderrson. **

Chapter One

"A true artist paints from the canvas of their soul," Mr. Freeman explains. Rapid hand gestures cease only to dive into a pale of blue paint. "Just splash that baby on their and _bam_- the birth of a masterpiece!"

_Okay already_, was all I thought, _if you're going to fake an accent, do it right please._ A couple of students snickered in the last two rows behind me against the back wall.

"Brits and their 'don't do this wack' shiz," somebody whispered. Chuckles grew like a wave. Travis Petrakis, who sits behind me, answered with his big brainy mouth.

"Be quiet, Zuko."

I slid my canvas closer and was absorbed into the acrylic paint of a grape vine.

"Make me, Petrakis," Zuko hissed back.

Thunder clapped from up front. Mr. Freeman frowned at the both of them.

"I appreciate your input David, but please settle down before a riot starts," He states.

_Thank you._

Fifteen minutes after cupping blobs of purple imperfection onto the grape vine, Mr. Freeman called on me to come front to his desk.

"Yes?" I asked, hiding a bit of agitation from being distracted abruptly.

He hesitated. I followed his finger toward the back of the room. One quiet mouse with red hair and brown glasses hid quietly, shrunk and concentrating in the corner.

"You know her, right? Silent girl, eh?" He whispered.

Hands folded around the corners of the canvas in order to remain secluded from attention. Melinda Sardino shrunk lower behind her desk. Her slick paint brush lifted, elbows relaxed on the desk. She was forging herself to turn a deaf ear.

I sighed.

"She's just… I don't quite know," I exclaimed. And it wasn't any of my business.

"You two will cooperate very well together. Partners, go on to it!"

"Okay then."

I gathered my paint tubes into a stack and leveled them onto my canvas, a distance from the wet paint. I slid them onto the desk beside hers, the one with the squeaky chair and wads of dried gum under the cubby hole.

Melinda glanced over for a second notified me, nodded a greeting, and drew back to her work. I slid my chair closer to hers and peered over her shoulder. Specks of yellow gleamed in a hazy navy fog hovering over a palm bush horizon.

"That's impressive." No doubt to lying.

"Thanks." She raised her eyebrows and shook vigorously. She needed to let go of some stress.

"Are you alright?" I asked. I gently touched her shoulder. It shook some more in response. A trance was making her stone face stiffen. A flashback? Her fingers fled from behind the canvas to the covers of her desk.

"You're bleeding," I shot out of my seat. "Mr. Freeman!"

"No, wait, it's alright," Melinda bit her lip. I grabbed her by the wrist. Mr. Freeman caught up instantly.

"Ivy, here is a pass for you each. Bring her to the nurse's office pronto."

I led her out the door. The absence of noise struck us in the hallway. Were those our hearts speeding up like bullets?

"Honestly it's no big deal," She applied pressure to the wound.

"Melinda, it's half the size of a coconut. You'll need anti-bacterial ointment and a wash cloth. Gauge too."

I swear I could see a relieving smile peek from within her dismal expression. Just for a split second, because then the nurse came rushing at us with warm hands wrapped in latex gloves.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Melinda preferred rather to sit on the gurney than to lay down. A powdered sheet lay beneath her, stained yellow from puss forming around the cut. She flinched a little as the mixture of water, soap, and anti-bacterial ointment were cleansed over the wound. Nurse Becky knelt over her army and dazzled the wound with cotton and gauge tape.

"How do you feel Melinda?" She asked. She threw out two passes from her cupboard files.

"It's alright," She nodded and chuckled softly. I raised an eyebrow her way. What was funny, honestly?

"Do you take required prescriptions?"

"No, please, I'm alright." With a shade of pale pink, that was hard to believe.

"Alright, where are you two off to now?" She rushed through a sloppy signature and glanced back toward us.

"Chemistry with Mr. Wright," I said.

"Biology," Melinda bit her lip and a strange noise came out her throat. "Mr. Neck."

Oh,_ him._

"Well, here you go," Nurse Becky handed us our passes and lead us out the door. "If you need anything at all, you know where I'm at."

"Okay," I mumbled and followed Melinda down the hall.

"Hey, are you going to survive through Biology?" I reassured her with a hug and met her eye level.

She breathed a heavy sigh.

"Please don't butter with me up with sympathy."

"Melinda," I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, you're pretty shallow, and I believe that nobody with a sweet soul as yours deserves such as that."

"It's just…" She flailed her arms to the side and leaned her head against the wall.

"What? Let's fix it together if you want."

"Only you and Travis seem to listen, and neither of you know what is killing me inside. It's not simple to resolve."

Fifth bell rang and Melinda slapped her forehead in frustration.

"Who is bothering you?" The crowds thinned away and we would have a brief amount of alone time. "Rachel?"

"No, I've been trying to reach Rachel, actually. That failed. Her boyfriend…"

"Tell me anything! Did he hurt you?"

"Emotionally, yes. Physiologically, no. Physically, a bit." She lifted her hair to reveal a scar looped around her ear.

I needed to burst.

"You didn't tell anyone?"

"I was scared…" She whispered. "He'd probably become more of a beast."

"Not if he hits the pound first! How do you know you could not have aids or HIV?"

"I went to the hospital by myself, down the bridge after the party last summer. They physiologist ran some tests and took some x-rays."

"Where were your parents?"

"Town Hall. I had a spare access key."

"He's still roaming around you, the stalker. You're third down on the food chain in his eyes." She began to cry, prickles of teardrops shone under the light.

"I just want to know I have at least two true friends." I pulled her into a squeeze. Honestly, the true friend of hers must be Travis Petrakis. "We should really get going." Her heart must be drowning by now, all of the pressure. And we'd pass Andy Evans again during the lunch break. I need to see Nicole Andrews.


End file.
